Archive for the ‘My Home Town’ category

Just a guy named Joe

August 31, 2010

I went shopping at Trader Joe’s this afternoon.

Now, I realize that doesn’t sound especially momentous. This was, however, the first time I’d darkened the doorstep of a Trader Joe’s in a good eight years — since my corporate days, when I worked a mere two blocks from the local TJ’s and dropped in there frequently. My new life in self-employment keeping me chained to my desk at home most of the time, and with the home of the “Fearless Flyer” being now more than a little out of my way, TJ’s and I have drifted apart.

But not today.

A shiny new Trader Joe’s opened in Santa Rosa a while back, right around the corner from my favorite Hawaiian barbecue joint — which, as fate would have it, has been closed ever since some nutcase drove his car through the front of the restaurant. With the news of the recent death of Trader Joe’s reclusive German owner, Theo Albrecht, fresh in my mind, and with a few hours of free time on my hands, I decided to venture in and check out the goods.

For the benefit of those of you unfortunate enough to live out of range of a Trader Joe’s, I’ll explain what I’m talking about. Trader Joe’s is a chain of specialty markets that’s big here in California. Originally a group of convenience stores, Trader Joe’s changed its image in the late 1960s, adopting a Polynesian motif and stocking select products sold mostly under its house brand names. (These often riff on the ethnicity of the comestibles in question — my chicken quesadillas, for example, bore the moniker “Trader Jose’s.”) Unlike a conventional supermarket, where you can buy practically anything your stomach desires, Trader Joe’s focuses on a narrow blend of gourmet and organic foods and household products. The store caters to a niche clientele including foodies, aging hippies, and bargain hunters.

Eschewing big-budget advertising, Trader Joe’s mostly draws customers in via its “Fearless Flyer,” a multipage direct-mail circular printed on cheap paper and featuring cartoons in the style of Victorian-era illustration. The store’s merchandise profile changes constantly — you learn never to get hooked on a Trader Joe’s item, because they’ll stop selling it the moment you do — but often includes unique products (especially seafood and frozen entrees) you’d never find anywhere else. Because almost all of the product line is branded in-house, TJ’s “cuts out the middleman” and frequently offers surprisingly good value for such an upscale retailer.

I strolled into the shiny new-ish TJ’s today with few expectations. I ended up needing a second handbasket to carry all of the stuff I lugged to the cash register, where a stone-faced college student in an aloha shirt (that’s part of the TJ’s vibe — all of the employees wear colorful Hawaiian shirts, and summon one another to the registers not with an intercom, but with a hand bell) totaled and bagged my purchases. I came away with frozen dinner items to feed myself for the next week, a few snacks, two cans of whole bean coffee, and a box of vanilla almond granola (quite tasty — I’m eating a bowl as I type).

The store was brightly lit and cheery, if rather spartan in decor — another Trader Joe’s trademark — and everyone, both staff and shoppers, seemed happy to be there. (Everyone, that is, except my cashier, whose personality made the prosaic bag of raw almonds I bought seem lively by comparison.) I know I was.

Thanks, Trader Joe.

A day for roses

August 19, 2010

Today would have been KJ’s half-birthday.

Roses for KJ's half-birthday, August 19, 2010

The custom of half-birthdays — and ultimately, half-anniversaries — was one that I brought into our relationship from my childhood. Because my birthday is only six days before Christmas, my major gift-receiving opportunities were bunched together into a single week of the calendar year. It became my habit, therefore, to observe my own half-birthday — the date exactly six months from my actual birthday — by doing a little something nice for myself on that day.

When KJ and I became a couple, we continued to acknowledge half-holidays. We never really exchanged gifts on those days, but we always made note of the date with a card or something.

Today seemed like a good day for roses.

This being a special occasion, the roses are real. A chain grocery store near the cemetery sells a dozen pink roses quite inexpensively — I’ve purchased them there a couple of times previously. My plan is to find a set of silk ones that can remain on the crypt at all times without maintenance, except for occasions like this when I’ll swap the artificial ones for fresh.

In case you’re wondering, KJ’s crypt is unmarked in this photo only because her marker hasn’t yet arrived. It should be ready for installation in about a month. The mausoleum requires that all of the markers follow an identical pattern, so they acquire them from the same source. KJ’s will consist of her name, birth year, and death year stamped from steel in a sleek sans-serif font.

And yes… it still feels a little bit peculiar to be writing about this.

The Blacker the Berry, the hotter the Torch

August 17, 2010

For an individual who spends as much time using technology as I do, I’m really something of a closet Luddite. My Luddism, however, manifests in odd, inconsistent ways. (Inconsistent to a casual observer, that is — my often oblique approach to things makes perfect sense here in Swanworld.)

I resisted owning a cellular phone for years. Part of my resistance stemmed from the fact that, as those of you who know me in meatspace are well aware, I despise talking on the phone. I rarely use the phones in the house or office, I reasoned, so why would I want to tote one around? Another part was that, being something of a lone wolf, being constantly connected to the rest of the world by a mobile device rankled me more than a little.

At long last, as my family’s needs for contact evolved, I surrendered to the inevitable and purchased an inexpensive phone that could be loaded with usage minutes as I needed them. The device didn’t do anything except make and receive the occasional call or text message — and I’d owned it for years before I sent my first text — which suited me just fine.

With the most recent alterations in my life, however, I’ve rethought a lot of long-held practices. Among these: my cell phone. More and more frequently, I find myself in situations where an Internet-enabled mobile device would come in mighty handy. Plus, with The Daughter heading back to college in a week — and with our primary means of communication over that distance being text messaging — I wanted something with which I could generate a text more quickly (and less fumble-fingeredly) than I can on the numeric keypad of my Motorola handset.

In addition, as my career has changed focus, I’ve been paying an unseemly amount every month for a business phone line that I rarely use. (Everything is e-mail and file transfer these days.) Those funds could be redirected toward upgrading my mobile communications experience.

It was time to buy a smartphone.

Yesterday afternoon, with The Daughter along as my technical adviser, I ventured out into the harsh, unfeeling world of wireless merchandising and came home with this… the BlackBerry Torch 9800.

I'm picking BlackBerrys... who's with me?

We spent the better part of an hour fiddling with the floor models of the various smartphones affiliated with AT&T. (Before you AT&T Wireless haters wax all self-righteous on me, I had significant logistical reasons for going with that provider. Don’t shoot the messenger.) The Daughter liked the Apple iPhone 4, and with good reason — it’s a beautiful device which appeared, based on my limited exposure, to function like a dream. But the iPhone posed one serious hurdle for me — its thin frame and glass faceplate looked and felt fragile in my chubby fist. It’s also a bit too lengthy to fit comfortably in a pocket.

BlackBerry’s newest innovation, while lacking some of the dash and flash of the iPhone (though we all know how Steve Jobs really feels about Flash), had a thickness and heft that felt more solid — and less breakable — to clumsy me. Its grippy rubberized backplate clung to my palm as though tailored to fit it. I also was entranced with the Torch’s slide-out QWERTY keyboard, which elegantly alleviates my ineptitude with multitap texting. And, although the Torch’s touchscreen — a BlackBerry first — may lag somewhat in performance when compared with the zippy-slick iPhone, to my aging eyes it’s slightly less glare-inducing than the iPhone’s mirror finish, and the Torch’s plastic face simply feels more forgiving to my fingers than the iPhone’s glass.

I’m well aware that the techies are less than impressed these days with Research in Motion’s product line, including the somewhat tepidly reviewed Torch. But I’m not trying to impress anyone. I just want to be able to surf the ‘Net wherever I am at any hour of the day, swap text messages with my outbound offspring, keep up with my friends on the various social networks, check and respond to my e-mail, and maybe even call the local pizza joint with an order once in a while. Based on the last 24 hours’ exploration, my new BlackBerry torch will do all of that just fine.

Besides which, I have it on excellent authority that Facebooking from the porcelain throne is wicked cool.

I can hardly wait.

Gone

July 6, 2010

Not to get all depressing on you, but I need to tell you something.

At 11:49 p.m. on Monday, July 5, 2010, my wife of 25 years — and my relationship partner of 29 years — departed this life after a lengthy, hard-fought battle with metastatic breast cancer and a progressive, degenerative liver disease the doctors were never able to fully diagnose.

She passed from this world holding my hand, before taking the hand of One greater and stronger than I, who welcomed her into the next.

KJ (as I’ve always referred to her in this space) was 44.

I will write much more about KJ, and our life together, in the days and weeks to come. But right now, my emotions are summarized by the words of this song, written by Tristan Bishop and recorded by one of KJ’s and my favorite a cappella groups, the House Jacks:

And now you’re gone
Somehow you’re gone
You were my midnight
You were my dawn
You were the shoulder that my life leaned on
You were my world
You were my song
You’re everything I could depend on
And now all you are is
Gone

You’re a good commodity, Charlie Brown

April 27, 2010

This just in via Sopwith Camel…

The E.W. Scripps Company, the struggling one-time media giant whose newspaper empire has in recent years been shrinking as if it had been dunked in ice water, today sold its subsidiary United Media Licensing for $175 million.

United Media‘s best-known property is Peanuts, the seminal comic strip created by the late Charles M. Schulz. The company’s new majority owner is Iconix Brand Group, the marketing force behind Joe Boxer underwear, London Fog raincoats, and Starter athletic wear.

I’m guessing that Charlie Brown’s baseball team will be sporting Starter jackets this season. And, I suppose, Joe Boxer supporters. Although that’s probably more information than you wanted.

The local angle here is that Schulz’s family buys into the deal for a 20 percent stake in United Media. This will give the Schulz heirs some degree of ongoing control over Peanuts licensed merchandise, which racks up gross sales in the neighborhood of $2 billion annually. That shakes out to net revenue of approximately $75-90 million. Not too shabby a legacy for a cartoonist working out of an office in an ice skating arena in Sonoma County, California.

By the way, if you’re ever in town, stop by the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa. Run by Jean Schulz, the artist’s widow, the museum always has fascinating and entertaining themed collections of original Peanuts strips on display. The museum also frequently hosts special exhibitions and educational programs, including its popular Cartoonist-In-Residence series the second Saturday of each month. Recent Cartoonists-In-Residence have included Keith Knight (The K Chronicles), Scott Kurtz (Player vs. Player), and Brian Fies (Mom’s Cancer). Plus, there’s always the off chance that you might bump into Paige Braddock, the Eisner Award-winning creator of Jane’s World, who’s the creative director for Charles M. Schulz Creative Associates and the mastermind behind all of the Peanuts licensed merchandise you see everywhere you look. (Somebody has to be.)

I have a feeling that Snoopy and the gang will quaff a root beer or two over this latest bonanza.

Rest in peace, Alicia

April 22, 2010

Although I’d known for several days that this development was imminent, it still grieved me to read the news that Alicia Parlette died from cancer today at the tragically young age of 28.

I first wrote about Alicia nearly five years ago, shortly after her blog Alicia’s Story began to appear on SF Gate, the website of the San Francisco Chronicle. At the time, Alicia was 23 years old, and recently employed by the Chronicle as a copyeditor. When she was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer — alveolar soft part sarcoma — in March 2005, Alicia’s superiors at the Chron offered her the opportunity to write online about her journey through treatment. Her memoirs were poignant, inspiring, heart-crushing, and real.

By early 2007, Alicia’s health had deteriorated to the point that she was no longer able to maintain her position at the Chronicle. The paper allowed her space to continue her blog, but updates grew infrequent, and stopped altogether in August of that year. Readers were left to wonder how Alicia fared in her ongoing battle with her aggressive disease. From time to time, some blogger would throw out a mention of Alicia, or a public plea for information about her welfare, but for the most part, those of us who had come to care about her through her writing could only speculate… and pray.

Over the past couple of weeks, news surfaced, via the Chronicle and other media, that Alicia had entered hospice care. By all reports, she faced the end of her young life as she had faced the obstacle that would eventually overwhelm her — with courage, determination, laughter, and an indomitable spirit.

Today, shortly before noon, that spirit departed.

If you read this blog often, you know that cancer is a fighting word here at SSTOL. My wife — known in this space as KJ — was first diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2000, and with a metastasized stage of that disease in March 2007. We live daily with the spectre that touches far too many lives.

We never met Alicia Parlette, but we felt as though we did. Thousands of others out there in the electronic ether felt the same. Our hearts beat heavily today.

May those who loved Alicia in life find peace in her memory.

And let’s all do what we can to kill this monster called cancer…

…before we lose many more Alicias.

Supergirl is now officially Superwoman

March 25, 2010

Twenty-one years ago today, my daughter KM was born.

And, as they say in the comics, nothing would ever be the same again.

Clearly, from my perspective, KM’s birth is far and away the most significant event ever to occur on March 25 throughout the entirety of human history. (Which, if you think about it, is all the history there is. It’s not as though any of the other creatures who inhabit this planet are writing this stuff down.) If, however, one wanted to think about the importance of this date from a more global perspective, here’s some grist for the mill.

  • According to tradition, Venice (the one in Italy, not the one in southern California) was founded on this date in 421.
  • Robert the Bruce assumed the royal throne of Scotland in 1306.
  • Titan, the largest moon of Saturn (and the birthplace of Saturn Girl, of Legion of Super-Heroes fame), was discovered by Christiaan Huygens in 1655.
  • Slave trading was abolished in the British Empire in 1807. (About time!)
  • Greece — a lovely country where I spent two years during my halcyon youth — declared its independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1821, and found itself compelled to make its own footstools from that point forward.
  • Beginning one of the most notorious travesties of the American justice system, the Scottsboro Boys were arrested in 1931.
  • The European Economic Community (what we Americans used to call the Common Market) was founded in 1957.
  • John Lennon and Yoko Ono began their first Bed-In for Peace at the Amsterdam Hilton in 1969.
  • In 2006, Kyle Huff shot and killed six people at a party in Seattle before turning his weapon on himself, in what came to be known as the Capitol Hill massacre.

KM shares her birthday with such notables as…

  • The late sportscaster Howard Cosell.
  • The equally late Patrick Troughton (the Second Doctor in Doctor Who).
  • Astronaut Jim Lovell (who narrowly avoided becoming “the late Jim Lovell” aboard Apollo 13).
  • Film critic Gene Shalit.
  • Feminist icon Gloria Steinem.
  • The Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin.
  • The Queen of Rock and Roll, Elton John. (Sorry, Sir Elton, but you know you’d have made that same joke.)
  • Actresses and style-setters Sarah Jessica Parker and Marcia Cross.
  • American Idol contestants Katharine McPhee, Carmen Rasmusen, and Jason Castro.
  • Auto racer and GoDaddy pitchwoman Danica Patrick.
  • Three former members of KM’s beloved Golden State Warriors: Avery Johnson, Bob Sura, and Marco Belinelli.
  • The charming proprietor of my local comic book shop, Kathy Bottarini.

Happy birthday, Punkin. Your mom and I love you very much.

You go, Supergirl! I mean… Superwoman.

Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to.

Hero of the Day: Abby is nine

February 28, 2010

Happy birthday to my personal assistant Abby, who is celebrating her ninth birthday today.

Abby says: "Nine years old, and they still make me wear this stupid hat."

That makes her about 50 in prorated human years, which means that, relatively speaking, she’s now older than I am.

Abby would like you to know that she is never too old to wear a silly hat and play with a new toy on her birthday.

Or watch a little Olympic hockey.

Abby says: "Take the picture already -- I've got a toy to gnaw on."

Well… she doesn’t really care about the hockey.

While my guitar gently weeps

February 16, 2010

This explains the police helicopter overhead the other night.

I’d read over the weekend about the murder of local artisan Taku Sakashta, an internationally renowned creator of hand-crafted guitars. Early Monday morning, Rohnert Park police chased down and eventually captured a suspect in the slaying — Joshua “Crash” Begley, a recently released felon with a list of priors stretching back more than a decade — just a block or two from our house.

At the moment, it’s unclear why Begley might have killed Sakashta — although, given Begley’s history of drug-related offenses, money for dope looks like a decent bet from here. Sakashta’s body was discovered last Thursday evening near his car, a Nissan 350Z, so there’s some thought that he might have surprised Begley attempting to steal the vehicle.

Sakashta’s custom guitars sold for upward of $30,000 each. He’s described by friends — including Ken Tominaga, owner of our little burg’s best sushi restaurant, Hana — as a sweet, gentle man who routinely worked late hours in his shop without locking the front door. He leaves behind a wife and many friends.

As for the suspect, he was in custody last Monday on drug charges when he briefly escaped using a handcuff key he’d secreted in his mouth. He was recaptured, then released on bail on Tuesday.

Less than three days later, Taku Sakashta was dead.

Nice going, Sonoma County law enforcement.

Comic Art Friday: Connections

February 12, 2010

This is a story about connections.

The Black Panther, pencils and inks by comics artist Brent Anderson

The other night, I was surfing cable TV’s bounty when I stumbled across Man-Thing, the ultra-low-budget cheapie thriller based on Marvel Comics’ swamp monster character, on the channel now ludicrously named Syfy. I knew of this film only by its sullied reputation, which was at least part of the reason why I’d avoided it before now. On this particular evening, however, quality offerings proved to be in scarce supply, so I thought, what the heck — let’s watch a bit of this.

Before you ask: Yes, the Man-Thing movie is as wretched as you’ve heard. (And if you’ve not heard, well, consider your life charmed.) It did, though, spawn in me a desperate craving to read an actual Man-Thing comic book. Now, I haven’t had such an item lying about the house since, oh, 1978 or thereabouts. But my desire for oozy primordial goodness was not to be denied. I had to score me some Man-Thing.

(Okay… that didn’t come out quite the way I intended. Pressing on…)

A quick online search turned up a listing of every Marvel book in which Man-Thing had ever appeared. Lo and behold, the fetid forest-dweller pulled a guest shot in Uncanny X-Men #144 (April 1981). I turned to the rack beside me and snagged my DVD-ROM archiving 40 years of X-Men comics. Into the laptop went the disc, and within moments, I was savoring the tale of the merry mutants’ battle against the villain D’Spayre, with a special appearance by none other than — you’re way ahead of me — Man-Thing.

As I perused the story, it struck me that the artwork in this particular issue was markedly different from the style I normally associate with this period in X-Men history. Specifically, it wasn’t the work of penciler John Byrne and inker Terry Austin, who drew the X-Men’s adventures for more than three years, beginning in late 1977. I vaguely recalled that Byrne had been displaced in early 1981 by the return of Dave Cockrum, who co-created the modern version of the X-Men in 1975 and drew their series until Byrne’s arrival. But this definitely wasn’t Cockrum’s work, either. Both Cockrum and Byrne (especially Byrne as inked by Austin) had, at least at this point in their respective careers, distinctive styles that would be difficult to mistake for anyone else’s.

I paged back through the PDF file to the opening splash for a look at the issue’s credits. To my surprise, I discovered that the penciler of Uncanny X-Men #144 was Brent Anderson, in what must surely have been one of his earliest published jobs.

Although Brent’s first regular series (at Marvel, in the early ’80s) was the Tarzan knockoff Ka-Zar the Savage, he became a major star later in the decade illustrating one of the most unusual comics of all time — Strikeforce: Morituri, about an X-Men-like squad of manufactured superhumans who routinely died gruesome deaths as a result of the process that gave them their powers. (Morituri is a Latin word meaning “We who are about to die.” Spring that one on your buddies sometime this week.) Today, Brent is best known as writer Kurt Busiek’s artistic collaborator on the long-running series Astro City.

As I said at the start, this is a story about connections. Brent Anderson is a local guy. In fact, he lives just a few miles away, in the town where my wife KJ worked for the past several years. He also happens to be a friend of Kathy Bottarini, the beloved proprietor of my hometown comic book shop.

Brent’s Black Panther sketch, which adorns the opening of today’s post, was commissioned at WonderCon three years ago. Brent didn’t have time to complete the drawing until the last day of the con, after I had finished my sojourn there. He graciously dropped it off at Kathy’s shop a couple of weeks later, where she kept it safe until I called for it.

See? Connections.

On that subject…

Brent’s pencils in Uncanny X-Men #144 were inked by Joe Rubinstein, who would also ink the next several issues of the series as Dave Cockrum resumed his penciling duties. Joe has probably inked just about every major character — and thousands of minor ones — published by the Big Two comics concerns during his now-legendary career, beginning in the early ’70s.

In between comics projects, Joe takes on commissioned work, including several pieces for yours truly over the last half-dozen years. The very first piece Joe ever inked for me was this lovely portrait of Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, drawn by Dan Jurgens. It’s still a personal favorite.

Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, pencils by Dan Jurgens, inks by Joe Rubinstein

And yet another connection.

Thank you, friend reader, for connecting with me today. And that’s your Comic Art Friday.